The Wistful Petal

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-19 09:34:55 -

The Wistful Petal

The mortar shell hit the earth. It did not explode. It cracked. I stood in the trench. Mud sucked at my boots. The air tasted of iron and wet stone. My rifle was cold. My hands were cold. The enemy was not firing. They were not coming. I looked at the ground. A piece of porcelain lay in the crater. It was white. It was broken. It was a bowl. I picked it up. The shards cut my palm. I did not...

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